


Love Sonnet

by NikaAnuk



Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: M/M, No Beta, Poetry, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 14:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20155264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikaAnuk/pseuds/NikaAnuk
Summary: Before coming back, Wolfe sends Santi message. It's poetry of course.





	Love Sonnet

**Author's Note:**

> This one is both: day two and day four I guess.

Coming together  
it is easier to work  
after our bodies  
meet  
paper and pen  
neither care nor profit  
whether we write or not  
but as your body moves  
under my hands  
charged and waiting  
we cut the leash  
you create me against your thighs  
hilly with images  
moving through our word countries  
my body  
writes into your flesh  
the poem  
you make of me.

(...)1

The letter doesn't say anything else. Just the words that leave Santi hot headed and distracted. No date and no place for the meeting, just the wanting.

Santi knows what that means and even if he hates waiting he finishes on his post and goes to his room. It seems too small to pace it over and over again, the night air is sweet and too warm, Santi can almost taste the blossoming trees outside.

He opens his Codex but not for long. He tries to focus on reading, or writing, exercise. But the words are burning his skin, like Wolfe was here already, touching him with tips of his fingers drawing nonsense on his skin, arousing him to the point of pain.

He is not here yet, working on a library in Tyrus. Santi looks outside, it's getting late, he may not be able to come tonight... But the poem...

The poem is how Santi knows that even if Wolfe will have to come in the middle of the night or very early morning, he will.

He wakes up alarmed, reaching for the knife under the pillow; he's on the bed and naked because the night air is sticky and hot.

There is Wolfe, kneeling on the bed, taking off his shirt. Without thinking, Santi sits up to touch him and pulls him closer, his hands running down his back, clenching on his ass.

Wolfe finds his lips and kisses him hungrily, his arms freed from the fabric wrap around Santi's neck. He is close, he smells with sweat and dust and travel and Santi can't have him close enough. They part for a second, panting, Santi opens Wolfe's trousers and pulls them down. Wolfe tugs on them impatiently.

Santi grabs Wolfe and rolls with him to lie him down; pulls the trousers off – Wolfe lies in front of him for a second, sprawled on the covers, white in the dusk, breathing heavily. He lets him look. Take in everything. This is body Santi has every right to, it is his to take.

With one swift movement, he lowers himself on Wolfe and kisses him. Wolfe's fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him even lower, their noses and teeth meeting. Wolfe can't control himself, arching to touch. He looses all his cool, his hips are pressed against Santi, his toes curling when Santi responds with the push against him.

A moan escapes his lips. Santi grinds into him again, Wolfe tilts his head back with a long sigh. They move together, Santi's hand slides on their members. Wolfe's breath catches, his fingers dig in Santi's arms.

There are no words between them. In the dark room there are only their breaths and the moans and the sighs. Santi leans against Wolfe, pressing him against the damp mattress, the duvet tangled between their legs. Wolfe's hair are messy on the pillow, his body arches in pleasure, spending into Santi's hand.

Thy don't exchange any words. Wolfe wraps his fingers around Santi's shaft to get him off and Santi kisses him, biting his lips, coming with a moan, hiding his face in the crook of Wolfe's neck.

The bed creaks when Santi lies down next to Wolf, pulling him on his chest. They smell with sweat and come and Santi buries his nose in Wolfe's hair. They don't say anything. Wolfe takes off the rest of his clothes and naked lies down on Santi, letting Sanit's hands wander around his body, relaxing after days of travelling.

Santi too has his favourite poem, it's more straightforward and very honest.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.  
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.  
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day  
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.  
I hunger for your sleek laugh,  
your hands the color of a savage harvest,  
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,  
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,  
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,  
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,  
hunting for you, for your hot heart,  
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.2

1Recreation by AUDRE LORDE

2 LOVE SONNET XI” BY PABLO NERUDA


End file.
